


The Interview

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: Trigger warning on this one, it's a bit dark.This is what you get when you're writing in hospital, on painkillers.Oh, and a bit of a language warning too.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 43





	The Interview

“Hello sir. I’m-“

“I know who you are. You’re the boy who’s interviewing all of us old farts before we kark it. You want to save our memories.”

“Uh, yes sir. We’re from the university, part of our Saving History project.”

“Maybe some history shouldn’t be saved, have you thought of that?”

“Sir, it’s so important to preserve the memories of what happened. It helps us to understand, and to learn from our mistakes. We’re doing a special study of the civil war that displaced Emperor Yuri, it’s a very confused time.”

“Some people learn, some don’t. Yuri sure as hell didn’t.”

“So were you part of that war, sir? Uh – it doesn’t matter what side you were on, not now, when it’s all so long ago.”

“I was part of that mess, just a grunt in the mud. I don’t have any useful memories of that one for you. But it doesn’t matter anyway, because the lesson Yuri should have learned was earlier than that. Six years earlier, before the damned Ceta bastards pulled out. Just before.”

“Oh… but… we checked your age, you were only twelve when they left. Was your father involved in something? He told you stories?”

“My father was long dead by then, and my two brothers as well. Bastard Cetas. No, it was me, what I saw. I was a regular by then.”

“You fought? At twelve?”

“Haven’t done much research on that one, have you lad. I was running messages between camps when I was eight. Sneaking through Ceta lines to spy out their troop movements by the time I was ten. At twelve I was kitted out as a full soldier, and did my share, too. And I saw – I saw it all. The things that didn’t make the history books. I was from the Dendarii ranges, part of Piotr’s own troop. He was a tough bastard, but the best soldier I ever saw. Best commanding officer, too. He sent men to their deaths when he had to, but he never threw them away needlessly.”

“Uh, ok sir, so back to Yuri –“

“I saw a lot of him, too. He and Piotr worked well together. The damn bastard wasn’t a bad soldier at that time.”

“And you said… something happened before the Cetagandans left?”

“It’s an old story. Probably better left alone. Everyone at the time knew it, but it didn’t go into the history books, not the full story. We didn’t hide it, it just didn’t get written down. No need, all those that mattered knew. And by the time they were writing their nice little history books… well, some memories are better left alone.”

“It happened before the Cetagandans left? I know there was an outbreak of violence after Vorkosigan Vashnoi was destroyed.”

“You know nothing. Well, maybe it should be remembered. Yuri forgot, and look what happened to him.”

“So – “

“Don’t interrupt, boy. Let the memories come. 

So. I was twelve. Serving with Piotr’s own troop. We were in the ranges at that time, just finished a nice little tussle with a few patrols. We’d heard a whisper that the damn Cetas were hustling around for some reason; some of our girls put out a bit of tail with them and got the gossip. Soldiers never think that whores listen, and have a brain, they only care about what’s below that. So the sluts were useful, in their own way. And they heard bits of gossip, that the bastards were going to pull out of part of our District, but not why. They did seem to be moving to the south and east, and away from the north, where the old capital was. Vorkosigan Vashnoi – it was a beautiful city. One of the oldest places on the planet, with that lovely castle on the bluff overlooking the town, yes, it was a beautiful city. I visited a few times, my two sisters were working there. 

We saw the cloud. Then the ground moved. Piotr – I think he knew straight away. I saw his face, I saw the life leaving it. In that moment all of the lightness in him, it just seared away. His wife and the kids were nearby, and safe, but the rest of his family – his mother and grandam were at Vashnoi, holding the place for him. And it was his grandam’s birthday, so the family had gathered there, quietly and carefully. Not carefully enough, though. Piotr and his wife and kids were meant to be there, too, but he’d been delayed – the weather had slowed everything down, so he was going to arrive a day later. Never did, of course. Nowhere to arrive to, by then. The Cetas made a big mistake when they missed getting Piotr.

His mother, and his grandam. His two brothers, and his sister, and their partners, their kids. A few aunts and uncles and cousins, too. They all went in an instant. The sound came after we saw the cloud. Like the gates of hell slamming open. 

And they did. 

We sent scouts to check, but Piotr already knew. Most of his family, and his home. And all the history there. I was inside a few times, when I was running messages for him. There was a whole gallery of old paintings, all the Vorkosigan counts from the very beginning. All the family records. And most of their wealth, gold and jewels. The cemetery where all the counts were buried, and their armsmen too. Together to the end. All gone in a cloud. And the city – all the District records. 

And all the people. My sisters. I was the only one left, my brothers and now my sisters gone. At that moment I was glad my parents were dead. 

There were so many gone, a whole city. And the injured – it was terrible. So many more died, there was no way to help them all. And the bastard radiation did for more, but that came later.

I knew Piotr would do… something. I made sure to stay close to him, I wanted to be in it, whatever it was.

And, when he moved, it was very simple. He started sending out messengers, all around the District. Where the damn bastard Cetas were. 

They were laughing and celebrating. Strutting around, telling all of us poor bastards that we’d had it now, that there was no way we could fight them when they had that power. Nuclears on planet are banned, everyone knows that, banned in the whole Nexus. They said the Nexus wasn’t going to know, that they could do whatever they wanted to us. Oh yes, strutting like little cock roosters they were. 

It took Piotr three days to get it organised. 

And on the third night, after those bastards dropped that bastard bomb, on the third night – we killed them. All. 

By morning there wasn’t a Ceta left alive in the whole District. Damn the consequences, damn the reprisals, damn what they would do to us, they couldn’t do worse than they had already. 

It was knives first. Knives are silent, see, and don’t show on their scans. 

Some were so easy – all those leering drunks who went after our girls, well this time when they tried it on the girl said yes. Said meet me under the oak tree in the field over there. And when he turned up, tongue hanging out with lust – there’d be a man to slice him up. Or the girls did it themselves, a lot of the girls were very good with a knife. 

Some of them were in the bars, still celebrating. A team would walk in, and when they walked out there’d be nothing but blood behind them. 

Patrols, we’d take the men at the back, silently. Then just rise up around them and do them all. 

Arrows were good, and silent too. The damned Ceta bastards wore armour that stopped neural disruptors, and stunners. Even slowed down plasma arcs, not that we had many of them. But a nice steel-tipped arrow went through it like a knife through butter. Or through a Ceta. The archers were so good, they’d have competitions with themselves. See who could get the most eye shots. Arrows took a lot of them down. 

Piotr organised it well, silent knives and arrows at first. Then to the guns and disruptors. Whatever worked. 

In one night we took down every damned Ceta in the whole District. The reprisals for doing that would have been terrible, before, but after the bomb it didn’t matter. They couldn’t threaten us with anything any more. Every village, every family, was grieving. Some families, or whole villages, would save up to send the best and brightest to the city, to train as medics or teachers, so they could come back and help their people. Some went to work, to send money home. That damn bomb stole the future from all of them.”

“The history books do record that there was a general uprising after the bomb…”

“The history books don’t record what happened next. And that was what made the difference. That was the lesson.

Piotr organised collection points. We piled the bodies high, every Ceta we’d killed. 

And then we took the heads. Packed them in crates, labelled them as cabbages. It was a bastard of a job, vile, with blood everywhere. We didn’t joke, or laugh, or even swear. Everyone worked in silence, just thinking of the ones we’d lost. But we packed up the crates and put them in float vans. 

Some of the Districts sent food to Vorbarr Sultana each day. Our vans joined the line, mingled with the traffic. Their papers were good enough to pass at the checkpoints, the guards weren’t that interested, and they’d been celebrating too. They thought we were beaten. When we got to the city we drove around and started unpacking the crates. Just leaving piles of them on street corners, usually a few blocks from a barracks, their headquarters, bars they used, anywhere the bastards were likely to be. Then we got out. 

People started opening the crates to get a few free cabbages. Word spread pretty fast. The Cetas were like roaches when the lights came on, rushing around, trying to find all the crates. Then adding up the numbers. And starting to identify them all. Lovely job, I hope it gave them nightmares for life.

As for the bodies, we loaded them in shuttles, aircars, whatever would lift. Calculated range and time. Then they flew to the coordinates, and dropped the bodies out. They kept as high and fast as they could, and the men wore all the protection we could give them. We decontaminated everything a dozen times, after, or just burned it. 

And Piotr sent the Cetas in the capital a message;   
‘I hope you liked the cabbages. If you want the rest of them, the bodies are in the town square at Vorkosigan Vashnoi.’   
And he gave them the coordinates. 

They never went to get the bodies. I don’t know if they took all the heads home, or cremated them, or what. 

But word spread through the other Districts like wildfire. And the killings spread, too. 

Mostly knives, silent and fast, they learned from us. The leaders were getting ready to lash back at us, see, but suddenly there were killings all over. Districts they thought were pacified, were on their side even, all the quislings and traitors and the ones who didn’t fight back, as well as the hostiles – suddenly the deaths were everywhere. Any damn bastard Ceta walking somewhere on his own, or two or three of them together, it’d be knives or arrows. A few places they’d wait until the Cetas were in a bar, then lock the doors and just go at them. Sure, some of them fought back, but they’d got careless in those pacified Districts, they felt safe. They weren’t. 

And the heads, whenever possible they cut the heads off. Sometimes they left them there, sometimes they scattered them around the town or city. That was your ‘general uprising’. District after district lost all fear of reprisals, all the threats meant nothing any more. If they’d wipe out a whole city they’d do anything to us anyway. So we were risking nothing. 

That bomb ended their invasion, because they couldn’t frighten us into obedience, they couldn’t hold hostages, or threaten us. They’d lost their power over us. There was no fear any more, just pure hatred. 

And there were deaths in every District, Piotr made sure of it. He had his networks, and he sent out the instructions. With so much going on, the Ceta leaders couldn’t send troops to punish us, or subdue us – most of the troops were afraid to leave their barracks, by then. And we got some of the barracks, too. The women knew the right herbs, they’d dope the food, then we could just walk in and start slicing. Once a few barracks were done over, they got even more panicked.”

“You saw all this?”

“I fucking did it. I lost count of the ones I sliced. I wasn’t strong enough to use a longbow, but I could cut with the best of them. Our clothes were stiff with blood. I can still smell it, flat and coppery. After a while it was so natural, like that was all we ever did, all we would ever do. Just going from one killing to the next, seeking them out, calculating and planning. 

Yes, Piotr made them pay for Vorkosigan Vashnoi. They took almost everything from him, so he went to a level they never imagined. 

They pulled out of the whole planet a few weeks later. It was a shambles for them, at the end. Some of the stragglers never made it, we were still picking them off. They abandoned a lot of their gear, and the treasures they’d stolen from us. 

We lost so many. Five damn million. But we took their blood at the end. All those heads… I couldn’t eat cabbage for a long time. 

And your history books talk about an ‘uprising’? But those books don’t have the whole story, not nearly.

But you wanted to get back to Yuri. 

Well, Yuri saw it all, of course. He took his share of heads, and blood. 

I don’t know what happened to change him. He’d fought beside Piotr, relied on him, he was emperor because Piotr saved him a dozen times over, and supported him at the end. Piotr was unquestioningly loyal to him, too, afterwards. The cleaning up was bad, especially in our District. So many gone, so much lost. We struggled to recover. But Piotr just went on, working for his District, supporting his emperor.

I don’t know why Yuri changed. Was it some Ceta poison? Maybe. But he made the same mistake the Cetas did. He took almost everything away from a man. Piotr lost his wife, his children. Just one son left. He kept the boy beside him through all the fighting – the kid was ten or eleven then, but he wore the uniform and fought beside us all. Did a good job, too. He was pretty much just a robot at that stage, like Piotr. 

Yuri saw what happened when you hit out, so cruelly, and take almost everything from a man. I think for Piotr it was just an extension of the Cetas. Yuri wasn’t his emperor any more. He was just one of them, he was the enemy. 

Funny thing was, by the end I didn’t even hate the Cetas that much, while I was killing them, it was just … it was normal. A new normal. Just kill them, like weeding a garden. I even lost count of them, it was just natural, easy. After what they did they stopped being people. They were just something we had to root out and destroy.

And when Yuri did what he did, he became the same. So Piotr rooted him out, just another weed in the garden. 

I saw the planning, too. I was smart, and useful, so I was often close to Piotr. I saw him talk to Xav. He told Xav that Yuri was going to die. That Xav would be the emperor. Xav didn’t want it – he’d lost all his children, his grandchildren, only the two left. His wife was caring for the baby, but I think the baby’s other kin took him later, at least part of the time. Piotr kept his own boy close. He was there, watching and listening. Xav pointed to him, said that the boy had the next claim. But Piotr said no. Said his blood would never take that risk. He was a Vorkosigan, he’d be the next Count, that was enough. The baby was too young, the job needed someone who could pull the Districts together. 

Just about the only Vorbarra left standing was Ezar, he’d been apprenticed to Piotr – that’s how they did it, for the officers, in those days. No pretty training school, you just learned from your officer. Piotr had taught Ezar, and taught him well. So Piotr said that if Xav didn’t want it, it wasn’t going to be his boy, it could go to Ezar. And Xav agreed. And then they went and killed Yuri and put Ezar in his place. Took a few years of blood, and it’s nasty fighting your own people. It was easier to kill the damn Cetas. But Piotr was totally focussed, he was going to get Yuri no matter what. 

And he did. 

They sliced him up at the end. I didn’t see it all, but I was close enough to hear the screaming. They said that Piotr’s boy took the first cut, and Piotr took the last. Bastard was probably dead by then, but it didn’t matter. Piotr took his head off. Just another cabbage.

So, boy, put that in your history books. The real story, the blood and the hate.

Yuri didn’t learn from the Cetas, and he learned too late from his own mistake. 

You want to know more about that uncivil civil war? Why bother? The part that matters isn’t in your history books. A list of battles doesn’t matter, that was just spending blood until one side had bled too much to recover. 

The bit that matters is how the damned Cetas burned away all the brakes, the controls, inside Piotr. And what it let him do. And that Yuri didn’t learn from that – the most dangerous man is the one who’s got nothing left to fear. 

So, boy, go write your book. You decide what people need to know from the past. 

Tell them about the cabbages.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A message from one Admiral to Another](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29555586) by [RGmolpus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RGmolpus/pseuds/RGmolpus)




End file.
